Baby, It's Cold Outside
by cowgirl65
Summary: Derek convinces Spencer to stay. based on the song of the same name. pairing - Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid


"Check and mate." Spencer Reid gave his opponent an expectant look.

Derek Morgan just chuckled as he rested the black king on its side. "I'm just impressed with myself that it took you this long. It's gotta be, what? Half-past midnight?"

"More like 1:45," Spencer corrected with a grin. "The rest of the team left 2.3 hours ago."

"Which makes it an extra 2.3 hours I got to spend with my favourite brainiac," Derek observed, flashing a sexy smile. "I'm glad everyone could come by for an impromptu Christmas party, though."

Spencer stood up. "Well, it's time for me to go before I overstay my welcome."

"Now that's a thing that could never happen." Derek gave the younger man a slow, seductive wink. "I hope you know that, Spencer."

A thrill went up Spencer's spine. Derek usually called him by his last name, but after drinks in a bar a few nights ago to blow off some tension after a particularly brutal case had ended up in the revelation that both men had an attraction to those of the same sex, and more specifically to each other, it had taken an extraordinary amount of willpower for the night to not end up in someone's bed. They had subsequently decided to move slowly; they were partners after all, members of the same team and, departmental regulations notwithstanding, they weren't will to have anything get in the way of that smoothly oiled machine that was the BAU. But Derek had started calling him 'Spencer' when they were alone and Spencer blushed a little when he admitted, "Yeah, I know," with a shy smile.

Derek went to get Spencer's coat and happened to glance outside. "That's quite a storm blowing up," he said. "It's pretty nasty out there, maybe you should stay."

"I don't really think that's such a good idea," Spencer protested. His brain told him he shouldn't, but the rest of him…

"C'mon," Derek urged. "It's cold outside, I'll even turn on the fireplace." He walked across the small living room, flicked a switch beside the fireplace and a warm yellow blaze suddenly appeared. "Not quite the same ambience as a real fire, but it's the best I got. At least, the best I got out here." The sly look on Derek's face told Spencer exactly what kind of fire the handsome man was alluding to.

"Did you know that out of the 56, 300 fires caused by heating equipment in the United States in 2008, 27, 200 of them were related to fireplaces or chimney fires?" Spencer said to reassure him that he didn't object to the gas insert. "That compares to-"

"I get it," Derek cut him off with an amused grin, "and this still gives enough of the proper mood."

"It's… very romantic," Spencer had to agree, "but Derek, I really can't stay."

"At least one more for the road." The two men had driven over together in Derek's car and Derek knew Spencer was planning to walk home. He poured a glass of the mulled cider he'd prepared for the get-together and as he handed it over, Spencer felt Derek's fingers deliberately brush his own. "We can put some music on if you want. I just got a copy of Michael Bublé's new CD. He's pretty good for a white Canadian dude." He said the last with a impish grin.

"Uh, thanks." Spencer didn't drink much; even at the bar he usually stuck to his limit of one beer or drank something non-alcoholic. But after the pleasant revelation a few drinks had recently brought, he decided it might be in his best interests to take a sip. An explosion of spices burst over his tongue and Spencer stared at it in surprise. "What's in this?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that," Derek said enigmatically as he turned on the stereo. A smooth baritone rendition of Van Morrison's 'Crazy Love' started to play. He then plucked the drink out of Spencer's hand. "Dance with me, Pretty Boy."

"Derek…" Spencer tried to protest, but he let Derek put his arms around his waist and draped his own around Derek's broad shoulders. They swayed to the music and when Spencer made the mistake of looking up, he was completely entranced by a pair of deep brown eyes. He was trying to think of ways to break the spell Derek had him under when his dance partner murmured, "Your eyes are like starlight, Spence. Did you know that?"

"Um, no, I didn't." He was unused to receiving compliments like that from men as strong and virile as Derek and wasn't sure how he should respond. So he did as he always did and threw out some facts. "You know, the light we see from our closest star, the Sun, takes 8.32 minutes to reach the Earth, whereas the light from Deneb, which is the farthest away of the 25 brightest stars we can see with the naked eye, is -"

This time, Derek stopped his recitation with a firm but tender kiss on the lips. Derek's lips were delicious and Spencer leaned into the embrace. They broke apart and he knew what he had to do before things got out of hand. He moved out of Derek's arms as he said, "I really shouldn't stay."

Derek looked apologetic and replied, "I guess that might be for the best."

Spencer didn't want to give Derek the wrong idea. He hadn't minded being kissed; in fact, that was the best kiss he'd ever had and every fibre screamed for him to stay. So he reached up and pulled Derek's head close to kiss him again. "It's not you, Derek. It's just that my aunt is passing through on her way to visit my cousins and she'll be suspicious if I'm not home when she knocks on my door in the morning." Which was only the truth; his Aunt Carol had one of the most suspicious minds he knew of, and that was saying a lot considering the field he worked in.

The sexy smile came back onto Derek's face. "Your aunt, huh? I'd love to meet her."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Spencer retorted with a grin. "I've really got to go, Derek."

Derek went to the window and parted the curtains. "It's turning into a nasty blizzard out there. You'll never find a cab in this weather."

Spencer took his scarf off the coat rack and draped it around his neck. "It's only seven blocks to my place," he reminded Derek. "I was going to walk, remember?"

"No way, Pretty Boy." Derek pulled off the scarf. "You'll freeze. And how do you think I'd feel if you caught pneumonia and died, huh?" He deliberately hung the scarf back up. "Nope, you're staying right here where I can keep you nice and warm until morning. How warm," and he flashed another sexy smile that made Spencer's knees weak, "is up to you."

As Derek drew him close for another kiss, Spencer decided that it made more sense to stay. After all, it _was_ cold outside.

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_A/N: I don't own Criminal Minds or the song "Baby It's Cold Outside" and make no money from writing this_


End file.
